


Kiss of Afterlife

by FailureArtist



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Frottage, Necrophilia, Non-Consensual, Xeno, unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-08
Updated: 2012-05-08
Packaged: 2017-11-05 01:52:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/400620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FailureArtist/pseuds/FailureArtist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Condesce has her first and last time with her Helmsman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss of Afterlife

**Author's Note:**

> This is incredibly disturbing and gross but I think it's very good.

There are only two people in the Engine Block of the Condescension. No, that isn’t correct. There is only one person in the block and she is surrounded by former people. But to her they were never people. The only person ever here was her matesprit: the late Helmsman.

 

He would have never called her his matesprit. She had asked him once when he was first brought to her. She was young then, barely into her first lifetime. She naively thought as a devotee of a cult that preached universal love for all bloods he’d graciously accepted the love of the highest blood. But he told her flat-out he wouldn’t share any quadrant with her. He said he wouldn’t even accept an auspisticize between her and his dead leader. She was prepared to make him an honored prisoner, but instead she bound him to a battleship and refused him the luxuries given to other helmsman. She did let him speak on occasion, but he never changed his mind and she never asked him again.

 

No matter. She is the one who chooses everyone’s role. She decided he would be her helmsman over his objections, she could decide he would be her matesprit. She never announced this decree. She never told him but deep in his rebellious heart he knew they were matesprits. She had always planned it to be a secret love even back when she thought she could keep him like concubine.

 

To everyone else she is quadrant-empty. A witch cannot have romantic feelings like a normal mortal troll.  She isn’t even have a lust bladder. She goes through life alone. She certainly doesn’t pick up a unfaithful lowblood to take with her. Logically she has reproduced, since there have been a line of doomed heiress throughout her reign, but that may be just another magic trick.

 

The truth is more prosaic. In private she makes her genetic material and seals it up. With great care and secrecy it is sent to be combined with the genetic material gathered from the Helmsman. The slurry is given to a special Mother Grub and the Mother Grub lays magenta-colored grubs.

 

Biologically speaking, it shouldn’t work. Genetic material gathered separately without the passion of sex lacks the chemicals needed to ensure reproduction. Yet it does work because her seed is too potent. It doesn’t matter that his genetic material is the product of vibrating prods forced up the anus and not of love. She has enough love for the both of them.

 

She does love him. She pities him truly, deeply, strongly. Her magically-enhanced vascular system pumps harder for him than any mortal troll could ever know. She isn’t ignorant or uncaring about how much pain he’s in. She can feel his pain sometimes like it was her own. But she does not feel the least bit guilty or even regretful that she has to inflict pain on him. Indeed she loves inflicting pain on him, because it just makes her love him more.

 

She thought she would possess him forever. He didn’t seem possible he could die between her powerfulness and his heartiness. Many a lesser troll would have died from his treatment but he was too strong of body and will. It was like he actually expected the Sufferer’s Descendant to rise up and defeat her and he wanted to be alive for the victory. He died before he could see this victory.

 

She was there when he died. She had run from the Bridge to the Engine Block to demand more speed towards Alternia. Suddenly, she felt several maroonblood lives snatched away from her. She was too far away from Gl’ygoylb to sense the creature’s pain, but she soon figured out the cause of those deaths. Now she had two reasons to get to the planet. If she got just a little closer, she thought, she could psychically calm her lusus. She believed she could outrace death. Soon the yellowblooded Helmsman started suffering the effects of the Vast Glub. She ran to the Helmsman and ignoring the blood and sparks and stares of her crew she kissed him long in a desperate attempt to give him just a few more minutes. It failed. With an anticlimactic gurgle he dropped his head and his life slipped away from her. Hundreds of lives slipped away around her but she didn’t care. It was over the minute he died.

 

The pool where she stands is filled with blood. She’s rarely stood in this pool. She only entered it once a decade to give him the Kiss of Life. She never did it with an audience. Even if it was only for practical reasons she couldn’t be seen kissing anyone. Now she can do anything she wants without worrying about her image.

 

She strokes his cheek. His warmblood body is cold and she realizes she has been standing here just looking at him for thirty minutes. He is not handsome in her eyes, but she never saw any landdweller as handsome. Their large noses and finless checks look strange to her. He is still beautiful to her. She desires his body so much now that his body has been taken away from her.

 

Still she kisses him. She wraps her arms around his back and pushes her face into his. Everyone of her other kisses have just been pecks compared to this. His mouth tastes bitter with blood and bile but she drinks it up like water. She kisses him for a long time and she feels she could go on forever but she pulls back.

 

Her bodysuit is covered in blood. She steps back, unzips it, and lets it fall in the pool. She slips out of her shoes and feels his blood and everyone else’s blood between her toes. Naked except for her jewelry she strides forward to her lover. She takes off his helmet and goggles and tears off his clothes, ripping the vines in the process until he is half naked. When he was first brought to her he was well-muscled from his time spent on the lam. His body is almost no tone now and what it has comes from daily electric shocks to his muscles to keep him healthy. She is still glad to see his body. It is her body.

 

His lower body is covered by thick vines. If he perchance has angel lust she doesn’t know. She will do this without his shriveled genitals. She strokes her bone bulge in anticipation and spends more minutes just looking at him. She then positions herself wet nook on a bulging vine. Her bone bulge slithers into an opening in the vines. This will have to do. Some might call it wrong but nothing the Empress can do is ever wrong.

 

She rocks herself back and forth. Her hands on his shoulders keep her balance. Her hair wraps around him. Her eyes do not break contact with those disturbing but fascinating red and blue eyes. She feels like his ghost is watching her. Those that hear ghosts often become ghosts themselves. She feels his presence. He knows what she is doing. He might even feel some sort of passion watching her despite his undead calm.

 

Her pleasure is slow building and she keeps it that way. This is not the quick frantic sex of a spawning. This is more like two lovers on their last day together who want to make the day last forever. It is the first and probably last time they’ll ever have sex. She will probably dispose of the body after this. To do otherwise would be against troll norms.

 

She plants kiss all over him as she rocks. She licks his arms and bites his shoulders and places gentle, pale-like kiss on his forehead. She puts her fingers through his unkempt hair. She acts as if he could actually feel anything. His cold body doesn’t bother her. It makes her feel like he’s actually a highblood.

 

Perhaps he should have been a highblood. Maybe then she could have possibly entertained the idea of having an open relationship with him. But if he was a highblood, she would have never met him. If it weren’t for that lowblood cult he would have been just another one of the millions in her empire. Ironic, that.

 

She actually starts regretting not making their relationship open. She is the Empress, she should be able to do what she wants, but unfortunately to do anything you want you have to not do everything you want. She must have no regrets about giving up a few freedoms for ultimate power and she suppresses the regrets growing in her.

 

She doesn’t suppress her pleasure. She lets it start growing to climax. The coming orgasm feels like a big one. Despite the lackluster physical nature of the sex (slithering her bone bulge around unmoving vines, rubbing her nook on a little bend, a partner that can’t touch back) the emotional aspect makes her breathless. After millennia apart they can finally embrace. She is so much in love. She has always been so much in love. The troll who should be incapable of love is in love. She never needed any of the other quadrants. She needs no moirail to suppress her, the hate of others was never worth her attention,  and she never needed mediating when she could just dispose and destroy. And yet she needs someone to pity and in this moment she needs someone to pity her. Yes, the Psiioniic could pity her right now, his bloodpusher would have to surrender to pity for the poor little rich tyrant who has lost everything.

 

She puts her all into her rocking. Her overwhelming pity for him, her anger that he failed her, her forgiveness for such a pitiful being, her sadomasochistic thrill that he died in such immense pain, and even her mourning for her empire, her despair over her situation, her need for vengeance for anyone responsible, and finally her regrets. She releases all over the vines. Her orgasm goes on forever. There is more magenta than she ever released before. Her cry is loud and deep and frightening like her lusus’. The Empress has come.

 

She holds on to his shoulders to prevent an undignified slip down. Her bone bulge untangles and retreats. She climbs off of him. She is filthy now. Her hair is limp and her legs are shaking. She is glad no one can see her. She can walk the halls naked on her way to her quarters. She could probably even walk around naked all the time, but she decides not to.

 

After she takes a shower and gets fresh clothes, she has much to do. She needs to find a way to dispose of all the bodies. She needs to check on the supplies. In a ship this large there may be enough food to last a long time. Perhaps she can appearify food from one of the now-deserted planets. She’ll need to figure out how to run the ship on her own. Most importantly she needs to plan what vengeance she’ll takes when she reaches Alternia. She has plenty of time to do that.

 


End file.
